Civil War
by EphemeralSakura
Summary: Based on the Bughead Pillow Fight photo for EW— Even if he's a South Side Serpent and she's the Perfect Girl Next Door, neither Betty nor Jughead will give up on a pillow fight.


**A/N** : _It's finally here! It took me some time because of my studies, but now it's finally ready! It's meant to be a cute, funny one like some of my fics, but this time, I'm leaving a hint regarding the theme for my very first multi chap! I'm so excited! Well, hope you enjoy this, and please, tell me what you think!_

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When it comes to movies, there is just no joking around with Jughead Jones.

If there is one thing Betty admires and loves about her boyfriend, it's certainly his passion for the 7th art. His devotion to the stories played on big screens, the strange connection he has with the classics and his broad knowledge of castings and directors are things she finds incredibly beautiful to see in a boy his age. The title of cinephile suits him perfectly, and the fact that he can watch the same movie over and over again just to prove a point— no matter how irrelevant it may seem to others— is one of the things that defines his personality the most.

She remembers how he made Archie watch the Breakfast Club at least three times, so their ginger friend could understand the true depth of the title. Whenever Don't You Forget About Me started playing, she remembers the smile that spread across his face, and she swears she could watch the whole movie again just to see that smile. She remembers this and so many other occasions, where the same thing happened only with other movies. and if she has to be honest, she always thought that his determination was quite endearing.

That is, until today.

It's Friday night, Alice, Hal and Polly are out, but instead of enjoying their youth and going to the Bijou's for a double feature of Moly Ringwald movies; they're both in her pink room, splayed around her bed, with sodas and an empty bowl of popcorn resting on her nightstand. Psycho is playing on her small TV, and the sound of the rain outside is the only thing invading what could be called their lovers' nest. Normally, she wouldn't complain about that at all. Any chance of spending some time with him and classic movies is always very well appreciated, especially after he moved to the South Side.

This could be a really great opportunity for them to forget about all the drama happening in Riverdale, but—

"Tell me why we're watching Psycho again, Jug?"

"We?" He lifts an eyebrow, sarcastically, as Marion Crane asked the cop why she should show him her driver's license. "I don't know what you're talking about, Betty. I'm clearly the only one who has watched this movie before."

A pout crosses her lips, as she turns her eyes to slightly glare at him. He feels her gaze burning into the back of his head, yet, he did nothing, not taking his eyes off the movie. If there is one thing Betty should've never told her boyfriend, it's that she has never watched the black and white version of Psycho. It's not like she minds black and white movies — in fact, she loves them —, but it's not her fault that she used to prefer the colored versions as a child. This is by far one of her top 10 movies, but right now, with a killer on the loose and with all the things going on around Riverdale, she was just not in the mood for that kind of movie. Couldn't they have just watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off instead? "Is it so wrong to have watched the colored version?"

"Of course not." He continued, as the driving scenes went on and on in the background.

"Then why can't we go to the Bijou?"

"Because, my dear, innocent Betty… You have only watched the colored version. And everyone knows that Psycho is supposed to be watched in black and white."

"But why, though? Give me one good reason for it, Jug."

"Oh my god, Betts! Hitchcock would be offended! Psycho is a black and white classic of the American cinema and its iconic scenes were perfectly designed for that kind of image. It gives out a mysterious vibe, and it's just brilliant!" He continues, clearly getting excited as all the reasons cross his mind. There's a proud expression ruling his face, and while they discuss the matter, Norman Bates is happily showing his collection of dead animals to his guest, who doesn't seem that entertained. "Besides, the shower scene is way scarier in black and white. I bet you're gonna scream as much as Janet Leigh did while recording that part."

"I truly doubt that… I've seen this movie many times already, and I don't think I'll ever scream because of the shower scene." There's a smirk on her face now, as she snuggles closer to him.

"Wanna bet?"

"Are you asking me if I want to win?"

"If you win, we can even do a Julie Andrews' session."

"Oh, It's definitely on, Jug." She smirks, biting her lower lip.

"Hn, you're too confident for a girl who screamed watching American Werewolf." He smirks back, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her even closer. His fingers caress her soft skin, and they soon return to a comfortable silence as their eyes are focused on the screen.

A smile settles on their lips as the psychopath makes his way back to the spooky house. Even if she doesn't want to admit it, Betty knows now that Jughead really has a point regarding the effect caused by the lack of colors in the movie. There's this noir aura enveloping the characters, and the shadows around the characters are somehow deeper and darker than when she first watched it.

Her green eyes are now glued to the screen as Marion works on some numbers regarding her money. This scene in black and white is just so hypnotic and mysterious, and before she knows it, Betty feels as if she's watching Psycho for the first time in her life. She's not afraid—far from that— but she can feel the Hitchcock thrill taking over her body and sending shivers down her spine. Norman's eyes are boring holes into her soul, and soon, she catches herself holding her breath as the bathroom scene starts.

Oh, god— she thinks, biting her lower lip in pure anxiety. The whiteness of the image shows off all the details of the bathroom, creating the perfect contrast. Her satin robe falling to the floor is so delicate and fast, and soon after that, the camera moves to face her, as the water soaks her naked body.

The angle of the camera changes again, and now, when her short, blonde hair is already glued to her head, a dark shadow comes up behind her. It makes no sound and it seems a lot more mysterious than when she first watched the movie. Betty can feel her bones getting colder under her skin, and she suddenly feels the need to scream for Marion to turn around. The classic, background music is creating an exciting tension, and when the curtain is finally pulled—

"AHH!"

Her voice echoes around the entire house and she practically jumped from her spot. Her scream gets mixed with the movie, but instead of a psychopath dressed in his mother's clothes, Betty's scream was caused by hands sneaking under her shirt and touching her waist in an abrupt movement. Her eyes widened, her breath is stuck in her throat, and her heart is racing as she hears the accusatory laughter of her boyfriend. Jughead's eyes are closed, his hands are hugging his stomach and his face is getting redder with every second, as he can't seem to stop laughing at his girlfriend's reaction to the oldest, scary trick in the book.

What a silly girl, he thinks.

And oh— she's definitely mad right now.

"I cannot believe you did this!" Betty starts, her chest moving up and down frantically, as she runs her fingers through her loose, golden locks. They're now sitting apart from each other, and her eyes are still holding that glare.

"Y-You said you wouldn't get scared." He starts, wiping a tear that managed to slip from his eye. "But you looked like a scaredy cat now, Betty. And I've just won our bet."

"That's not fair! You made me scream, not the movie."

"Technically, you screamed during the shower scene, so…" He smirks, moving his eyebrows in a teasing way. "I won the bet."

"Oh, you're such a child, Jughead Jones!" She states, pouting childishly as the smirk stays on his face. "And stop smirking like that!" She grabs her white pillow, hitting him with it and making a soft, stuffy sound.

"Hey!" He says, defending himself from the powerful pillow attack, still smirking. "Who are you calling a child, child? You've just hit me with a pillow!"

"Yes, I did." She hits him again, the pillow now hitting his arm. "And I'll keep doing it until you admit you've cheated."

"Are you looking for a pillow fight, Elizabeth?" He smirks, his hand already reaching for the weapon he had been resting his head on for the past 40 minutes.

The corner of her lips slowly lifts in a challenging way, and right now, both of the teens know that there's no turning back anymore. "Yes, I am, Forsythe. And if you don't wanna be humiliated, you should just—"

Her voice was abruptly interrupted by a pillow hitting her straight in the face. Her hair is now falling over her eyes and as soon as she sees his proud face, Betty Cooper's competitive side takes over.

It's definitely on.

It doesn't take more than five seconds before the two children turn her perfect room into a war zone. Pillows are on the flour, plush toys are already hiding under the bed and feathers are spread around the entire place. It's like the adults' civil war, where she's from the North, he's from the South, but unlike Riverdale, they're not fighting because they're standing in different sides of the tracks in a small town, no. Instead, they fight because of a bet over the most iconic scene of black and white cinema.

And no matter how they looked at it, their reason to fight made a lot more sense in their young, brave heads.

For the following 20 minutes they have been aiming at each other's arms and bellies, and never before had a fight been so much fun. Both Betty and Jughead are kneeling on her mattress, each of them holding a cushioned weapon. Smirks are plastered on their faces, and she's sure that if her mother walked in to see that scene, she would probably think her perfect daughter had snapped.

And maybe, she did.

"You're not winning this, Jughead!" She smiles, feeling her stomach jumping in childish happiness. "I have the advantage of the field!"

"Poor, innocent Betty." He smiles, too, his dark waves now a mess after Betty managed to hit his crown shaped beanie from his head. "I grew up with a little sister. There's no way you're beating me."

"I'll show you what I'm made of, Jones."

"Bring it on, Cooper!"

Even if she first decided to let him be the one to attack, Betty decides to give up on that strategy and just follow her instincts. The blonde charges her pillow attack, and when she finally unleashes it, something unexpected happens. Jughead is hit. She was waiting for him to dodge that— since he basically dodged her attacks during the entire fight— and that's why her eyes widen when the fluffy material hits his belly, sending him straight to the floor. Her ears capture his voice screaming in surprise, followed by the sound of his body hitting the carpet, and right now, the Cooper girl just doesn't know what to do.

Did she win?

Did she really hit him hard enough to send him to the ground?

Did she hurt him?

Betty doesn't know. Her chest is moving fast due to her erratic breathing, and her heart shaped lips are slightly parted. "Oh god! Jughead? Are you okay?" Slowly, her hands clutch tighter around the pillow, and her heart starts beating even faster. She's waiting for his response and for the sight of his head shooting up like a marmot, but nothing happens. "Come on, Jug. This is not funny…" Silence takes over the entire room, and all the happiness that was taking over her senses seconds ago, is now gone and replaced by a sudden concern.

She's biting her lower lip now, and all the worse scenarios start playing in her head as she approaches the edge of her bed. He was probably caught off guard by her attack and fell on the ground, eventually hitting his head. Something inside her tells her that as soon as she looks at her carpet, she will find a pool of blood— his blood— and the lifeless body of her boyfriend over it. Betty just can't believe she killed him with a pillow, and soon, tears start pooling around her eyes as a result of losing the love of her life.

"Jug?" Her voice is shaking now in fear, and she's afraid of looking past her bed. Betty swallows dry, and now, as she stands just a few inches away from a possibly bloody scene, she knows she's screwed up. She killed him— of course she did it— and now life will be sad, boring and less sarcastic without Jughead Jones the Th—

A thump breaks her line of thought, making her close her eyes for a moment in pure reflex as something soft hits her face. A second later, her green eyes are widened, her lips parted and the Jones boy is looking at her from the floor, his head leaning over his closed hand. The boy is laying casually on the floor, with a smirk on his face, and right now, Betty doesn't know whether she's relieved or really mad at him for playing with her like that.

"Have I ever told you how cute you look when you're worried about me?"

Oh, she's definitely mad.

"You big, fat, jer-"

"Betty! Language!"

There's fire in her eyes now, and with puffed cheeks, Betty throws herself back on the bed. She's doing her best not to scream her anger out, not bothering to offer him any help or comfort as he stands up, laughing, as his fingers run through his raven locks. His eyes immediately drift to her, as she has her back pressed against the mattress, her golden hair splayed around, as her hand rests on her forehead. His eyes examine his girlfriend, and even if there's a bit of guilt inside him, he can't help but think how cute she looks right now.

Even when she's mad and even after they just finished a pillow fight, Elizabeth Cooper is still extremely beautiful.

But simply stating that won't change the fact that he has to bring a smile back to her face.

"Betts…" He starts, his knees making contact with her bed. She feels his weight molding the mattress underneath them, and even though she's doing her best to avoid his eyes, Betty can't fully avoid him now that he's leaning over her, his arms placed on either side of her body to support him. His face is mere inches away from hers, and she can feel his hot breath brushing her cheek. "Are you still mad?"

"Shut up…" She pouts, doing her best not to look into his greenish, blue eyes.

"Oh, come on." He leans down, closer to her. "I was joking."

"I thought you were really hurt."

"Hurt? Betts, you hit me with a pillow."

"So what?" Her cheeks were puffed, and right now, as he says it out loud, Betty has to admit that the whole thing does sound a bit silly. "Something could've happened. You could've hit your head, passed out or even cut your forehead."

"Yeah, right… If something like that happened, Alice Cooper would probably kill me for staining the carpet." A chuckle escapes her lips, as she imagines the scene in her head. Her mother would certainly explode if there was a blood stain on her carpet, and she wouldn't even need to think twice before blaming the boy.

"Yeah… Maybe."

"Is that a chuckle I hear, Betty?" He smirks, and she can tell it even without looking at him.

"Oh, shut up…" She smirks, finally looking at him. His dark locks are falling forward, and she can smell the inebriating scent of his shampoo. His eyes are as soft and as beautiful as ever, and his body hovering over hers is just too distracting. Apparently, the Cooper girl just can't stay mad at him for longer than five minutes, even if he just scared her to death.

And for that, Jughead is more than thankful.

"You know… You're terrible at being mad." He leans in even closer, their lips almost brushing.

"I know… But…" She smiles, lifting her head up a little. When she finally feels his lips against hers, the Cooper girl grips her pillow and softly hits his head, barely making him move from his spot.

"What the—"

His eyes widen a bit, but before Jughead can even think about planning a counter attack, her hands cup his cheeks and she pulls him closer into a soft, sweet kiss. They breath in, their lips still touching and softly, she whispers. "I guess I'm the winner, after all."

Her voice sends shivers down his spine, and suddenly, it's like there's a knot in his gut. His throat goes dry, his heart is beating faster, and as she looks at him with those gorgeous, lustful eyes, Jughead knows that, no matter what he does, he already lost everything to her.

He lost the fight, he lost his mind and he certainly lost his heart to the perfectly imperfect girl beneath him.

"Should I give you a prize, then?" He says, kissing her neck as his hand slowly starts to slip under her shirt.

"I've been waiting the whole night, Forsythe Jones."

Oh, Elizabeth Cooper… You really are the winner.


End file.
